Shawn Goes to Prison
by thewhitewolfpack
Summary: When the tables turn on our favorite Psychic Detective, and he ends up behind bars, will he be able to solve his own case? Or will he become a victim himself? Shawn!whump **COMPLETE**
1. Prelude

**Just a prelude. I'm working on an "Avengers" story right now, but I wanted to post this before I lost the plot. And I don't own Psych, I just like using them for new stories.**

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Prelude

Shawn Spencer sat in the small room fiddling with the glass of water that was given to him. He had been sitting in the same chair for 2 and a half hours straight and his legs began to fall asleep long ago, but he didn't feel like moving them around.

The moon was hanging high in the night sky, surrounded by stars and he would do anything to be with his girlfriend as they watched them together.

Suddenly the only door to the room opened and Head Detective Carlton Lassiter strode in, a file and writing pad in hand and took the seat opposite of Shawn.

"Let's take it from the top, Spencer." Lassie said opening aforementioned file. "Where were you the night of May 4th 2012?"

"I went to see The Avengers midnight premier with Gus," Shawn said flatly.

"Wrong. We have witnesses saying that saw you in a bar that night." Lassiter said. He eyed the file again and asked. "Have you ever met this man," he slid a photo of a guy in his early 40s, "Chris Jameson?"

"No, I haven't."

"Wrong again. You first met him 6 months ago downtown. He sold you something to help you sleep, right?"

"No, he didn't. He couldn't have because I've never met him in my life!" Shawn said as he placed a hand to his head where he felt a pounding begin to come on.

"What's the matter, Spencer?" the Detective sneered. "Having withdrawals?"

"What? No, of course not."

Lassie humped. "One more question." he flipped a few pages before looking Shawn straight in the eyes and asked, "Did you kill Chris Jameson?"

Shawn eyed Lassie right back and boldly said, "No. I. Did. Not."

"Not the right answer." Detective Lassiter shoved different crime scene photos on the table. Some were off a bloody body, laying halfway out of a river near some trees and others were of the scene around it. But one picture stood out of all the rest. A black gun, much like the one Shawn had bought not even two weeks ago, was staring back at him.

_This is so bad._


	2. Discovered

**Thanks for the responses to that "commercial" of sorts. A prelude, really. Thanks for the all the alerts and to the people who reviewed, you guys motivate me to update faster. I actually had a dream about part of whats going to happen later in this story, from Shawn's POV, and it was so cool. That won't come for a few more chapters though, so you'll have to was and see what I'm talking about. Enough rambling, enjoy and review!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.**

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Chapter 1

1 Week Ago

He closed his eyes and brought a finger to his head as he replayed the case events in his mind. Shawn remembered the blond woman in the corner booth, the waiter with a bad attitude and the door man all had motive to kill the restaurant owner. But none more than the chef.

Jackson Barns was the second cousin, on his mothers side, twice removed to the owner Kenneth Harrison. Though Harrison didn't know that.

"The woman in the booth could've easily killed the owner and his wife. Because the wife found out about a _supposed_ affair. But you, sir," Shawn suddenly said as he pointed to the chef, "Found out that you and Mr. Harrison were related. You told him about your findings and thought that if he knew, you'd be put on his Will for the 14 million he made running this fine establishment, as he was dying from a rare form of bone cancer."

The small group of Chief Vick, Gus and Detectives Lassiter and O'Hara stood around as he had another 'vision'.

"Harrison was going to, but when he found out that you had threatened to harm his wife, Lisa, he quickly told you to leave."

Gus jumped in, wanting part of the final action. "But you didn't. You went to his home later that night a killed him and his wife in cold blood." Shawn thanked his best friend and continued on. "You almost got away with it to. But _almost_ doesn't _cut_ it." Shawn made a motion with his hands, as if he dropped something sharp.

"You had used a gun for the crime. But you planned to stab them at first. You had picked out a nice hunting knife, one you loved so much, you had you name carved into the handle, not thinking anything about it" Shawn shook his head. "Careless mistake, buddy. You dropped it at the scene where it was found."

"That money should've been mine!" Jackson yelled as Lassie cuffed him. "I worked harder than him, but he got the credit for my work! It was all mine!" he went on saying as he was hauled to a waiting car outside. Jules walked up to Shawn and said, "Nice work. I saw what you did there, accusing someone else you ease his mind." she smiled "Interesting tactic."

"Just doin' my job." Shawn said as he leaned in for a kiss, but Jules stopped him short. "not right now, I need to get back to the station and file some paper work from last weeks drug bust." She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Wanna catch dinner at my place tonight?"

Shawn took a long time, pretending to be thinking as if it was a tough question to answer, before finally saying, "Sure. I'll cook?"

"That'd be great. See ya then." and with that she walked very fast out the door and to her waiting car. Gus stopped by Shawn and shook his head at the two love birds. "When am I going to be able to reveal who the bad guy is?" he asked. "I never get to do it,"

"Are you psychic?"

"No," Gus said.

"Then there's your answer," Shawn began to walk away towards the parking lot and the Blueberry when he heard his friend yell back, "But neither are you!"

-xXx-

Later that night, Shawn drove his motorcycle to Jules' house as Gus had to 'work my real job' late again. He parked it in her garage, because it was beginning to look like rain, and closed the door behind him. He unlocked the house door with his spare key that Jules' gave him and walked inside to the kitchen.

He opened the fridge and grabbed everything he needed to make grilled fish and veggies and mashed potatoes. After 30 minutes of cooking Shawn turned on the tv and looked for something to watch. A basketball game was on, so he settled on that for now.

He had just put the potatoes on when he heard a noise coming from the upstairs hallway. He didn't think much of it until a louder creak reached his ears. Slowly he got up from the couch and made his way towards the carpeted steps.

He picked up an umbrella from the corner of the walk-in area and prepared for what ever was going to happen. He got to the top and began to check all the rooms and closets before coming to a stop in front of Juliet' room, as the door was cracked.

A figure in black was kneeling down on the side of her bed, looking hurriedly underneath for something. Shawn slowly walked up behind the person and was about to knock them out with his weapon when the person swiftly pulled a gun on him and fired.

Shawn jumped out of the way in time, and saw where the bullet imbedded it self into the wall not far from where he was just standing. The person took their opportunity at Shawn's distraction and jumped him, bringing them both to the ground in a heap.

They rolled around on the floor punching and grabbing at each other when Shawn saw the person reach behind their back and pull out a knife. If Shawn cared, he would have noted that the knife was at least 6 inches, resembling that of a hunting knife, but he really didn't focus on that. He just didn't want to get stabbed.

The person on top of him tried to bring his new weapon down into his victim, but it was a lot harder than shooting a gun. But since they didn't have that right now, they had to make due.

He kneed the person in the gut, causing them to lose their hold on the knife and Shawn knocked it away where it slid under the bed. He kicked them again, which sent them falling into the nearby wall. Unfortunately they landed near their first weapon, the gun, which was lost in the opening scuffle. They didn't hesitate and grabbed it fast, shooting at Shawn who was standing to his feet.

He felt a white hot stinging pain ran into his upper right arm and he stumbled back into the wall. The person was about to fire again when the bedroom door, which had been slammed shut during the fight, suddenly opened and a single gun shot was fired into the dimly lit room. The hooded and masked person fell to the floor with a cry of pain as they clutched their now bleeding leg.

Jules entered in, gun still raised at the person, and said to Shawn, "Are you alright?" she nodded towards his still bleeding arm. Shawn looked down and sighed, "Yeah, I'm good." Juliet made her way over to the person on the floor and took off the hood and mask that reveled the face of a man who couldn't have been more than 35.

"Who are you?" Jules asked the man, gun pointed at him. The man didn't answer, face scrunched with pain. Shawn was about to ask another question, when Lassie ran in, gun at the ready. "Your a wee late, Lassie," Shawn said beginning to feel drained all of the sudden. "Better late than never though, right?" Lassiter ignored him and proceded to cuff the man and literally drag his butt down stairs.

Jules lowered her own gun and walked over to Shawn saying, "Come on, let's get you fixed up."

The couple made their way to the living room where a Paramedic was waiting, and Shawn began to give Juliet his statement and his arm was attended to.

"Jules?"

"Yes, Shawn?"

"Dinners ruined," the man said with a sigh. Eyeing the kitchen, he could see a pan of blackend fish and wittered veggies. Also the smell of burning potatoes filled his nose.

"We'll order Take-Out chinese,"

"With pineapple?"

"Of course."

Shawn smiled, but it was short lived as the Paramedic started cleaning the wound, causing his girl friend to laugh a little at his pain.

-xXx-

He eyed the couple greedily, drooling like a starving dog about to be fed. He was quite and moved stealthy through the backyard, watching where he stepped as to not make a sound. The black clothes he wore became like camouflage in the rainy California night, as he stood close to the house window.

It was only a matter of time before he would induce the pain that was put upon him many years ago. It was only a matter if time before a certain Spencer would be no longer a problem.

-xXx-

Present

Shawn stared at the notepad that was laying in front of him. Its yellow striped paper mocked him and the jet black echoed after. The words weren't really being said, but it didn't matter because what they were, or weren't, saying was true.

Detective Lassiter had left 45 minutes ago, fed up with the "uncooperativeness" of Spencer. _That's not even a word. _Shawn thought grimly. It had been 24 hours since the body was found, and 18 since the gun used was discovered to be his. 12 since they brought him to the station and 7 of being held in the interrogation room. All the evidence was piling up on him and for once, Shawn Spencer didn't know what to do.

One the half plus side, they brought him food. But it was cold, and he was starting to feel sick. This was defiantly not his day.

He continued to stare at the pen and paper, until the door to the room opened causing him to look that way. Lassiter walked back in, followed by a police officer. Shawn was good with names, but he didn't know hers. She must be a rookie.

Carlton sat down and pulled the notepad away from Shawn. He eyed it before slamming it back onto the table. "Its blank, Spencer." the detective narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because I have nothing to write," came the reply.

"You have plenty to say!" Lassiter yelled. "Now start with why you killed a man in cold blood!"

"I didn't kill anyone!" Shawn said getting more and more frustrated. "Why don't you believe me?"

The supposed rookie cop took that as her cue and walked a few feet over to the table, a plastic evidence bag in hand. She gave it to Carlton who snatched it from her grasp and threw it in the face of Shawn, saying "Maybe this is a good enough reason,"

Shawn looked down and he was sure he stopped breathing. His hands shook involuntary and his eyes started to lose focus. He saw no way around it; no answers or reasons to what was happening. "Face it, Spencer." Lassie said getting closer to him. "There's no way out of this one."

He felt his heart sink as he thought, _Maybe Lassiter is right. Maybe there is no way out."_

**Review if you want, they make me happy. :) Did you spot the pineapple?**


	3. Choices

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.**

**Thanks for the reviews! Sorry this is late, "real life" still goes on. Make sure to keep your eyes open, I'll mention things that'll pop up in later chapters you'll have to know. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 2

5 Days Ago

"Gus, I want you to come with me." Shawn asked as he adjusted his sling. It had been two days since he got shot, again, and the doctor said that it could come off in three. Four at the latest. The bullet just grazed his arm, and only required a few stitches.

I'm not going, Shawn."

"Why not?"

"Because I see nothing good coming out of you buying a gun."

Shawn pouted. Ever since the incident at Jules' place a couple days ago he'd been on edge. He was jumpy and always looking over his shoulder; as if someone was watching him. Gus didn't seem to understand his troubles and when he brought up the wanting to buy a gun, his best friend flipped a lid.

"Please? All you have to do is be in the store with me." Shawn started to explain to his friend. "The guy who owns the place doesn't sell to individuals who come in alone anymore, for some strange reason."

"You'll only end up shooting yourself," Gus said from his chair. "Or worse, me."

"You know I took all the courses for proper gun training," Grabbing a bag of chips, Shawn took a seat next to Gus.

"That's because you used my card to pay." Gus said taking some chips for himself after Shawn offered them over.

"It'll only take 5 minutes. 10 at the most." Shawn smiled and this made Gus uneasy, knowing that what ever was going to be said, wasn't good. "Plus, I've already picked out the one I'm gonna get."

"Shawn,"

"Once you get up and come with me," Shawn jumped up, flinging chips onto the floor and out the open window. "Please, Gus?" Burton Guster sighed. He really wished Shawn would've thought of something better than buying a gun. Why not get a guard dog like normal peo- oh yeah. Shawn Spencer was far from normal.

"Fine. I'll go." Gus said standing up and dusting chip crumbs off his shirt. "But I'm plastering myself to the door when we get inside."

"Yes!" Shawn said as he threw a fist into the air. He raced to the Blueberry, his friend following slowly behind him. "You won't regret this, buddy!"

"Bad things always happen to people who say that," Gus said in a low voice. He got to his car and pulled out of the parking lot. The radio came on and Bon Jovi's _Livin' On a Prayer_ started to play. Gus couldn't help but think that that wasn't a good sign, feeling the need to say a prayer of his own right then.

-xxx-

"Here ya go, mister." a middle aged man said. "Just the one you wanted." he placed a silver case on the counter top near Shawn and opened it with a key. He pulled out a black gun. Nothing fancy or special; plain and simple and capable of doing the job.

"Perfect," Shawn smiled. Thoughts ran through his mind or how he would finally be able to protect Jules' for once, of how he wouldn't be helpless and in need of his witty comments to try to get him out of bad situations. The man behind the counter waving a hand in front of his face, brought Shawn from his thoughts.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Wanted to know if you needed a case to go with it." the man said kinda uneasy. "Its another $100, but since you got this on a "Deal Day" you'll save $275."

Shawn pondered it over before shaking his head in turn saying, "I'm good man. Thanks. How much do I owe you?"

"Your total is..." he typed a few things into his computer before answering. "$323.14." Shawn was about to hand the amount of money over when something caught his eye. "How much are those gloves over there?" he asked, pointing to a set of black gloves behind the counter.

"Ah, these are nice. Kinda like motorcycle gloves, but for shootin'. 25 dollars."

"I'll take it." Shawn Spencer paid the man and took his buyings and left. Dragging Gus, who hadn't said a word since he set foot into the store, out to the Blueberry.

Little did they know a person, who had a cretin amount of interest into one psychic detective was following their every move. They marked where the two men went, the times and dates, never leaving a detail out.

After what happened all those years ago, the younger Spencer deserved what was coming to him. But it couldn't be rushed. Everything had to be perfect.

-xxx-

Present

"This is your last chance, Mr. Spencer." Chief Vick said. "If you tell us the truth, we'll talk the Judge into giving you a lighter sentence." in the background, Shawn heard Lassiter mumble something but couldn't make out what it was.

"I am telling you the truth, Chief" Shawn said. "You guys just don't seem to believe me."

"Its hard to believe anyone with this much evidence piled us against them." Dective Lassiter said stepping over to the table. "Now quit wasting our time and tell us what we need to know."

"_Need_ to know or _want_ to know? Because to me, there's a big time difference." the accused man questioned the two people opposite of him.

"Cut the crap, Spencer. This is the end of the road for you, now-"

"Enough!" Chief Vick said standing from her chair. "I've had it up to here with both of you. Shawn, I've tried and tried to work with you on this, but you-"

"Chief, I-"

"I'm not done." she narrowed her eyes and continued with a sigh. "You have left me no choice. Carlton, put him in a cell," and then she left. Dective Lassiter walked over to Shawn and roughly pulled him to his feet, before pushing him down onto the table face first and cuffing his hands behind his back.

"What, I'm too good be be read my rights?"

"I'm not arresting you,"

"Then why-" Shawn was cut off by Lassiter tightening the cuffs. "listen here, Spencer. You made me look like a fool back there on this case, its only right that I'm the one to bring you in. No matter how painful it is for anyone in this department."

Shawn's eyes widened at this comment, knowing what it meant. Juliet. "let me talk to her,"

"Yeah, right. You don't get any requests here."

"I mean it Lassie! I need to talk to Jules!" Shawn continued to put up a struggle. Kicking and hopping and trying to knock the detective off balance. The 'psychic' threw his head during his bout and it connected with Carlton's nose with a crack. Blood started spewing at once, staining the man's tie and shirt. Lassiter let go of Shawn for only a second to grab his now broken nose before throwing a punch right on the jaw of his captive, knocking him out cold.

The last thing Shawn thought of was how Gus would be yelling _'I told you so'_ for years to come. If he survived that long.

**Sorry for the waiting. Hopefully this was worth it. Review make me happy! :)**


	4. Fight or Flight

**For clarification, this takes place in between Season 6 and 7. The date starting May 4, but the whole problem begins in early December, which we will get to later. In the present everything is AFTER May 5th. Hope this isn't confusing. -SPOLIER- since we don't know if Henry survives after getting shot or not, for now he won't be in this story. I may mention him, but that'll be it.**

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Chapter 3

Flashback: May 5th 2012

_9:14 am_

"_...police are currently questioning people in the area about last nights events, but at last we heard they don't have anything to go on. SBPD Head Detective Carlton Lassiter is the one calling the shots. Here he comes now."_

"_A body was discovered this morning between the hours of 4 and 6 by a homeless man. The victim, a male in his 40s to early 50's, was shot at close range, multiple times on the left side of his chest." the detective paused for only a moment before continuing. "As of right now, we don't have a suspect. But mark my words we will bring-"_

"_Whoaaaaaa," a cry sounded. Everyone with cameras and mics turned to the noise wondering what was going on._

"_Ninja turtle, doughnut holes, American cheese, no," the man stopped and raised a fist in the air, gasping as he did. "Cheese? Sweden cheese?" he looked at his friend, who shook his head no. "Swiss?" the friend nodded with a small smile on his face. The one making a scene wispered a "Thanks, Gus," before going on._

"_What does cheese have to do with this, hi Lassie, horrific crime?"_

"_Get out of here, Spencer," Lassiter said, but the man didn't budge._

"_And you are, sir?" one of the news crew asked._

"_Shawn Spencer, head psychic detective of the SBPD. And this," he motioned to his friend who seemed to not want any part of this, "is Yo-men Golestine."_

"_And both men were just now leaving. McNab! Get them outta here," Lassiter yelled._

"_but I haven't told them about what this is really about!" but Shawn's cries feel on deaf ears. "Lassie!"_

"_Sorry, guys. You need to go," McNab said with a small frown on his own face. The two men turned around and began walking down the street away from the crowd and movie theater._

"_You think they'll find out what we did before that guy got shot?" Gus questioned in a low voice._

"_I don't know, buddy." Shawn answered. "If they don't then we'll have to tell them. Before we end up like that guy back there._

End Flashback: 2 Days Ago

Burton Guster was in the Psych office early that morning, not having slept a wink last night. His neighbor was renovating their house and decided that using a buzz-saw was a good idea at 2 in the morning.

Pouring him self a cup of coffee, Gus sat down at his desk and opened his email where he saw he had 1 unread that was entitled "HELP ME!". He was taken aback at first and was about to open it when Shawn came through the door holding a box of doughnuts, his mouth seemingly full with the glazed treat.

After swallowing what was in his mouth, and taking a swig of his orange juice, Shawn sat the doughnuts down on the table and held up two small sheets of paper while pasting a huge grin on his face.

"What are these?" Gus asked his friend while closing the internet window he was just on.

"These," Shawn pointed to the object in his hands, "are two tickets to the midnight showing of T_he Avengers _on Friday, buddy!"

"no way!" Gus exclaimed. "I looked and all the showings in Santa Barbra were sold out,"

"Well, I know a guy." Shawn said with a look of pure happiness. He wouldn't admit it, but he had been saving up for the tickets since the first trailer came out. He knew Gus had all the comics growing up and when they were 11 years old, Shawn promised him that he would take him to see the midnight showing.

"Man, I can't wait." he replied. "But today I need to finish a paper for our case log and file a few things."

"that's cool. Can you drop me off at the station first?" Shawn asked. "I need the Chief to sign our check for the McRainy case and then I got a date with Jules'."

"Sure thing. Wanna stop for some Jamba Juice?"

"Pineapple-Mango?"

"You know that's right.

-xxx-

Shawn exited out of Chief Vick's office with a now signed check in his hands. He folded it and placed it in his pocket, making a note to have Gus go by the bank later this week. Walking over to Jules' desk, his smile faded when he saw that his girlfriend wasn't ready to go. But was rather surrounded by stacks of files and a phone in-between her shoulder and ear.

He was about to say something about it, but Detective O'Hara held up a finger singling him to be quite for a moment longer. After her call was finished, Jules' hung up the phone and smiled sadly at Shawn.

"What's all this?" Shawn asked as he gestured towards the full desk. "I thought your schedule was clear the rest of the day?"

Juliet sighed and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "It was, but Carlton got a big break in a case and isn't here to work on these files."

"I vote you leave them here for him to sort through and we got get something to eat." Shawn said as he pointed at the door. "c'mon Jules. I've been looking forward to this,"

"I'm sorry, Shawn. But Chief assigned this to me until he gets back." she smiled. "I'll have to take a rain check on our date."

Shawn sighed and rubbed the back of his neck before speaking up. "Its okay. I'll talk to you later." he turned around and left without saying a word, but he could picture the look on Juliet's face as he rounded the corner and headed for the front door of the station.

He walked down the steps until he got to the bottom and wondered what he was going to do now.

Gus was tied up the rest of the day, and it was only 1pm. He decided to to check out the new restaurant on the boardwalk for lunch, before heading back to his place. There wasn't much for him to do until then, so he headed over.

Unknown to him, a figure was watching him very closely.

They were hiding in plain sight, hidden away from the people around them. They took a sip of their drink, and looked up from the newspaper they pretended to be reading. The Psychic Detective walked passed them without even a glance, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

The person had guessed that Shawn would be heading to this spot on the boardwalk. Ads had been popping up everywhere, and they knew how much Shawn loved pineapple, which they place served plenty of drinks with.

Folding up the paper and tucking it under their arms, the turned around and began to walk up the walkway. They felt the butt of the gun as it moved across their lower back and smiled.

It seemed too easy. They could've taken Shawn out right then and there, and not given it a second thought. But they enjoyed a good challenge, and Shawn Spencer proved to be just that.

The time was approaching fast, and everything was in place.

"_Soon," _they thought and smiled. "Very _soon,"_

-xxx-

Present

They first thing he noticed was the pounding ache he had in his head. Groaning, he shifted his weight until he was laying flat on his back. He slowly opened his eyes and tried to remember what happened.

Then it all came flooding back.

Groaning again, Shawn moved to sit up, which was awkward because his hands were still cuffed, and glanced around the room. He was in a cell, with a cot, a sink and a toilet. That was it. He looked out the bared window and saw the sun peaking through the clouds, and was brought from his thoughts as he heard a door open and keys jingling.

Chief Vick showed up with Detective Lassiter behind her, a white strip lay across his broken nose.

"Mr. Spencer, come here," Shawn got up and walked over to the bars, not saying a word.

"The evidence we have against you, hit a snag and we have nothing to keep you here." the chief started. "You may go, but, you have to stay in city limits. No excuses." she motioned for Lassiter to unlock and open the cell door, who did so while speaking low enough for no one to hear. Shawn walked out and Lassiter grabbed his wrists and removed his cuffs.

Shawn was going to say something, but the chief had already left and Lassiter was staring daggers at him.

"Listen here, Spencer. You've caused this department a great deal of misery and its only a matter of time before I get you back in these cuffs and lead you down to a real cell." Lassie spat. "You are a disgrace and I will get to the bottom of this. Whether you come out alive or not." he turned around without another word, leaving Shawn alone.

-Scene Break-

Shawn sat on a bench that faced the ocean. The waves lapped against each other before reaching the sandy beach. People walked along the waters edge enjoying the weather and each other and he was so caught up in the scene, that he didn't see the person walking up to him.

They sat down, and Shawn realized he had company.

"Tough day?" they asked. Shawn smiled sadly and looking down to his hands he replied, "Something like that."

"You know its only going to get worse?" Shawn's head snapped up and looked at the person for the first time. A man, around he own age, was seemingly eying him back with a sickly grin. He wore black jeans and a grey shirt, dark sunglasses and a hat.

Shawn jumped up and stared backing away from the man, when he saw Chief Vick, and Detectives Lassiter and O'Hara walking towards him. He looked back at the man and realized that he had a small silver gun pointed at his chest, though he held it low around his waist out of sight.

The party of three was getting closer and Shawn slowly backed away from the crazy man with a gun. He heard Lassie calling out to him, probably something about them having a warrant for his arrest and to stay where he was. But at that moment, he didn't think that was the greatest idea in the world.

Shawn frantically looked around him and took in his surroundings and two options. He could get shot, for a third time, and possibly killed there on the spot if he stayed where he was, or he could make his way over to Lassie, Jules' and the Chief and surrender to the cops for a crime he didn't commit.

The man with the gun was 15 feet away from him now, and Lassiter, O'Hara and Chief Vick were closer to 50 feet out. He picked his third option and stopped in his tracks. He looked to the police and then to the crazed man before he made his choice.

Then he turned around and ran.

**I'm sorry this is so late. Be kind and leave me a review? I enjoy reading them. What to you think is going to happen next? Hope you enjoyed it! :)**


	5. The Price of Friendship

**Thanks everyone! 18 reviews, 19 follows and 7 favorites. It means a lot to know you like this! :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych.**

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Chapter 4

1 Day Ago

"Man, I don't think I've seen a better movie!" Gus said as he and Shawn exited the theater. It was early in the morning and the they were eager to get home and get some rest.

The two men neared the curb and after looking both way, they stepped off. "I know right. The Black Widow was a total kick a-" Shawn was cut off by a speeding car which caused him and Gus to jump out of the way. Tires screached as rubber burned and the vehicle drove away into the night, not stopping once.

"What the hell is his problem?" Gus yelled to no one.

"Its probably nothing, buddy. Lets get home, I'm super tired." Shawn answered. Gus hadn't notice that the vehicle was all black. Black rims, extremely dark tinted windows and no license plates. Sure it was three o'clock in the morning, but that did not get pass Shawn.

Gus humped. "Maybe your finally crashing from all that soda and candy you ate,"

"Oh, please. Your one to talk, 'Mr. three bars of Pay-Day, two bags of Skittles, a large kettle corn pop corn and an X-tream Monster Icy.'" Shawn replied back to his friend who pulled out his keys.

"I feel fine, Shawn." Gus stated. "I could go to sleep right now if I wanted to,"

"Sure you could, buddy." Shawn replied, knowing good and well that Gus wouldn't sleep a wink tonight. That thought quickly left when he got into the car known as the 'Blueberry'. He couldn't get forget about the all black vehicle that tried to run them over. He wanted to ask Jules about it, but he didn't have any solid proof to go on. Not a single thing.

Before he knew it, he was getting out of Gus' car and walking up to his place, seemingly on auto pilot, and made his way to his room and got into bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Present

He wasn't sure how long he ran, and he didn't know how far he'd gotten but Shawn found he couldn't go another step. He looked around at his surroundings and decided to duck behind a building and its towering shadows.

He spotted a stack of crates resting up against a bricked wall and slowly made his way over to them. He sat down and took a deep breath as he ran a shaking hand over his face and through his hair as he wondered what he should do now.

He knew he should make his way to the SBPD and tell them about the guy who held a gun on him; in turn making him run from aforementioned police. He also knew that there was a good chance that they wouldn't listen to a word that came out of his mouth since he was the prime suspect in a murder case.

On the other hand, the crazy guy with a gun would probably take that in to consideration and shoot Shawn dead before he set foot into the station. But something was off about that guy. He couldn't place it, but something was not right.

Shawn couldn't help but think about the case. He was sure he never met Chris Jameson, but facts stated otherwise. Shawn wasn't on pills of any kind, so why had the police asked him about that fact? Yes, those were his gloves and his gun, but he never shot it let alone killed a guy using it.

Gripping his hair in his hands, Shawn sighed. All this had happened so fast, he couldn't even imagine what Gus was feeling. He figured he should call him and let him know about his suspicions, but in his heart he couldn't involve his best friend in this mess. The cops probably tapped his phones anyway.

But who else could he trust?

His girlfriend was on the police force and... well, that was it. He didn't have any other friends. He was alone.

All of the sudden his phone started ringing. Shawn pulled it out of his back pocket and a frown appeared on his face as he saw Gus' number and a picture from last year show up. He was going to let it go to voice-mail, but decided not to. Looking to the left and then to the right, just to make sure no one was coming, Shawn reluctantly tapped the _ANSWER_ button.

"Hello?"

"Shawn, help!" came a panicked cry.

"Gus?" Shawn stood up quickly and yelled into the phone, his knuckles growing white as his grip grew tighter. "Gus, answer me!"

"Someone it trying to break into the Psych Office." Gus replied in a low whisper of a voice. "He's yelling about wanting the casefile and-" the rest of the the conversation was cut off as the sound of a door cracking open loudly and Burton Guster screaming in the background.

"Gus?" Shawn yelled shaking. "GUS!" the line cut off and a dial tone followed. Shawn didn't waste another second as he raced out from the shadows and into the streets of Santa Barbra. He glanced around and gathered his barrings, he took off in the direction of the Psych hoping and praying that he'd get there in time.

Soon the Psych office came into view. Shawn pushed himself the final hundred feet and burst through the door, running to the open area ready to save his friend. Once inside Shawn looked around the room.

Everything was neat and in place, and Gus came walking over holding a bottle of water to his lips.

"Shawn, what are you doing here?" Gus questioned.

Shawn, out of breathe, replied. "I got a call from you. You said someone was breaking into Psych."

"I never called you,"

"Yes you did!" Shawn said getting closer to his friend. "I just talked to you and you were scared and I heard someone break the door down and then the line cut off-"

"I don't know what sick game you have going on, but I didn't call you." Gus said. "I've been here all day working on my real job and no body broke down the door. And I didn't scream for any reason. You shouldn't have come here."

Shawn was about to reply when the front door burst open and men dressed in SWAT gear and guns piled in, followed closely but Detectives Lassiter and O'Hara and Chief Vick.

"Shawn Spencer, you are under arrest for the murder of Chris Jameson." Lassiter said walking over to where Shawn and Gus stood. Grabbing his wrists roughly, he began to cuff the psychic and read him his rights, but Shawn didn't hear anything passed "You have the right to remain silent,"

"You set me up?" Shawn questioned. "I can't believe you, Gus."

Gus remained silent, not given the time to respond. Lassiter gripped Shawn by the arms and forcefully led him away, stopping briefly by the Chief.

"I'm really surprised, Mr. Spencer." She started. "I never thought you'd be one to run. I most certainly didn't picture you to come here of all places." she paused and looked Shawn straight in the eyes before saying. "get him out of here,"

Shawn was lead away to a waiting car. He held his head low, not wanting to look at the scene going on around him. Lassiter opened the car door, not bothering to cover Shawn's head as he pushed him inside. Shawn looked out the window and saw Jules standing alone in the doorway to Psych. Her arms her folded and to anyone else, she had a professional look on her face. But on the inside she was broken. A single tear ran down her cheek and the car with Shawn in it pulled off.

-xxx-

Off in the distance stood a man. He wore jeans and a t-shirt and a jacket, blending in well with the crowd around him. He watched the scene take place before pulling out his ringing cell phone and answered as he began to walk down he street.

"Hello?... Yeah, the cops just busted that psychic, like you said they would... uh huh... Where's my money?... Okay... yeah... Alright, boss... I got it covered." with that he ended the call and waved over a cab. Climbing in he told the driver to take him to the bank on 2nd Street.

He sat back in his seat and enjoyed the ride. His job was done, and he got what he was promised. Now, the real fun would begin.

**So, as I wrote this, it was 109 degrees where I live. I can't handle the heat very well, and it been like this for the past couple weeks. I'm reallllllllllly sorry this is late.**

**Review?**


	6. Sentenced

**A/N: Stupid writer's block. I couldn't think of anything that I wanted to happen in this chapter, without skipping anything important. So, sorry if its crappy. Oh, and I know nothing about trials and how they work. WARNING: it gets a little bit dark towards the end. Not for young readers, but still within the "T" rating.**

**Shawn may be a little OOC. I can't explain it. It kinda just blew up in my face. * shrugs * All mistakes are mine. Not beta'd.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Psych. Its sad, I know. * not really * ONWARD!**

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Chapter 5

Today was the day of the trial. Shawn didn't know what to expect, therefore his face held an emotionless expression on it as he got dressed in his cell. He'd been there for 10 days already and he absolutely hated it. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he was found guilty.

_When they found him guilty?_

Suit and tie neat and in order, face cleanly shaven and hair perfectly in place, Shawn waited for the guard to come and take him to a car where they would make their way to the courthouse. What he didn't see coming was Detective O'Hara showing up right behind the guard. Not knowing if he should be happy or really mad, Shawn didn't say anything when he first saw her.

He folded his arms as he waited for the bared door to open.

"Mr. Spencer," the detective started. "I, along with Sheriff Williams, will be your escorts today."

"Cut the crap, Jules." Shawn said annoyed. "What's up with this "Mr. Spencer" stuff?"

"I'll inform you that, against the Chiefs wishes, I wanted to be the one to escort you to the courthouse."

"You haven't come to see me once, and now outta the blue you-"

"Alright, that's enough!" Sheriff Williams piped up. "Let's go, Mr. Spencer." the sheriff motioned for Shawn to step out of the cell, which he did. As soon as that was done, the sheriff grabbed his wrists and cuffed them in from of him. Taking him by the arm, Shawn was led out of the building and to a waiting transportation van.

The ride was suppose to last 15 minutes, but it felt a whole lot longer than that. With one Detective Juliet O'Hara sitting opposite of him the way there, that is.

Shawn stared at his chained hands the whole time, not looking at his girlfriend. If he could call her that anymore.

"You know I don't think you did it, right?" came the voice he was currently ignoring. She must not've gotten that hint. "Gus doesn't believe it either,"

Shawn found himself asking, "They why hasn't he come to see me? Why didn't you, until today?"

"Shawn, I-"

"You know what, Juliet? Just don't." the detective was taken aback at Shawn's use of her real name, not the nickname he gave her. "You have a job to do, and telling a soon-to-be convicted criminal how your feeling isn't part of it."

"We're here," a deep voice called to the back. The van pulled to a stop and the engine was shut off before Sheriff Williams came around back. Opening the doors, the sheriff helped Detective O'Hara out of the van, before pulling Shawn out a little to roughly. Jules couldn't help but wince. On the outside she remained professional, as she promised the chief she would. Only the people who knew her well could see through the front she had put on.

Shawn Spencer would've seen it if he was looking at her.

Straightening her suit jacket, Juliet stepped to the side of Shawn and waited for the sheriff to close up the van. When he was done, grabbing Spencer by the arms, the group walked together to the entrance to the courthouse.

Once inside, Shawn was led to a small room where he was to await the arrival of the judge. Sheriff Williams was called to attend to some matters, which left Shawn and Juliet alone. Much to the psychic's dismay.

"Why'd you do it?" the blond woman asked as she stood on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall behind her. She knew Shawn was playing the 'ignoring card', but this was the only time she had to talk to him alone. "Why'd you go back to Psych when you knew we were going to look there?"

"Its not important," he said in a low voice.

"Shawn, you can talk to me." Jules replied. "I'm still the same, Jules."

"No, your not." Shawn countered, his normally cheerful voice dripped with pure anger. "You stopped being the same 'Jules' a long time ago. Starting with the moment you believed I was guilty of murder."

Shawn got up and walked a couple feet to get closer to the detective, after hearing the supposed footfalls of the sheriff. "I thought you of all people would believe me. I'd let Gus know that too, but he's not here."

The door opened and Sheriff Williams walked in saying, "Time to go." Shawn turned away from Juliet without another word, approaching the officer who led him through a set of double doors. They soon reached the court room where Sheriff Williams gave Shawn over to his lawyer after the handcuffs were removed. The two men took there seats and waited for the Judge to enter.

Two minutes passed before the few people in the room were told to rise as the Judge Mathis entered the room. An older woman with graying hair and strong features strode to her seat and sat down. Signaling the others to do the same.

"Court is now in session," Judge Mathis said. Shawn didn't hear anything past that, but he saw everything.

He saw Lassie, Jules and the Chief sitting a few rows behind him to his right. He saw someone he'd never met get on the witness stand and give their testimony about the night that was such a blur to his always sharp memory. He saw his lawyer shake his head time after time when evidence was brought forth, writing notes down along the way. And he saw Gus. Hiding it the back of the room away from everyone else in a suit and tie.

Away from Shawn.

"Will the defendant please rise," Judge Mathis said. Shawn stood to his feet, putting on the best 'strong front' he could muster. Feeling like he was going to be sick in the inside, he straightened his suit jacket and held his hands by his side. He felt like his heart was racing a thousand beats a minutes, and he inhaled in shaking breathes. The judge eyed through a thin stack of papers before looking up and removing her glasses.

"The evidence is overwhelming, Mr. Spencer. Not to mention you evaded the police." she began. "And although it did hit a couple snags during the first process when everything was gathered, the Jury has found you, Shawn Spencer, guilty of first degree murder.

"The sentence is for 30 years to life, with the chance of parole on good behavior. Court dismissed." Judge Mathis stood up and walked down the step, going through the door that the bailiff had opened for her.

Sheriff Williams walked over to Shawn and told him to put his hands behind his back. Doing so caused him to face the people who who he once trusted with his life. Detective Lassiter stood up and sent a smug look his way before following the Chief out the door, Karen Vick didn't even glance the psychics way.

Detective Juliet O'Hara followed her colleagues. She was trying her best to keep the tears at bay, attempting to shield her emotions from the only person who truly loved her. But she failed. She didn't move through the door quick enough because Shawn saw the water fall freely from her eyes.

Then there was Gus. He stood in the back of the room, only a few feet from where he sat during the trial. He had taken his jacket off at some point and was now holding it over his arm. His face was unreadable, which was something new for Shawn. He could always read people, especially his best friend, knowing him for all of his life.

Gus turned around as soon as he made eye contact with Shawn, and not able to handle the sight of his friend being led away in handcuffs, he left without saying a farewell word.

Burton Guster all but ran out of the courtroom. He couldn't take, or process, the scene as it happened before him. He wasn't able to comprehend the thought of Shawn Spencer going to prison for any amount of time, let along 30 years to life.

Part of him wanted to stay. He wanted to be there for him, since everyone he ever knew had already turned their back. But he couldn't. Gus wasn't able to be the bigger person and stand by his friend in his time of need. Instead he became like the others: a hopeless excuse for a friend.

Lost in his deep and harsh thoughts, Gus didn't see Shawn's lawyer as he walked past him, a cell phone held to his ear. He didn't hear the conversation either, because if he did, there's a good chance he would've fainted right where he stood.

"Everything's set, Mason...yeah, it was real easy getting put on the psychics case: no lawyer with the state limits wanted to take it...I played my cards the right way, like I told you I would...yeah...he'll be behind the gates of the Santa Barbra Penitentiary by tomorrow morning and dead before he knows what happened."

-xXx-

Meanwhile, in the Santa Barbra Penitentiary was a man named Donny Mason, but everyone called him 'Big D'. He stood 6 foot 2 inches and was 245lbs of pure muscle. He was in on charges of three counts of first degree murder.

He was currently in the weight room, working on a worn down and shredded punching bag as thoughts and plans ran through his mind. Seven years spent behinds with a lifetime to go and he was finally getting his chance. He'd put in countless hours, cause he had as a lifetime to think about it, and now the time had come to put it into motion.

With each striking punch and jab and kick to the bag, Big D envisioned one Shawn Spencer. He pictured revenge and its finest taste, the feeling of getting back at the one who took every thing away from him. He pictured the sound of bones breaking beneath his fist and the unforgiving smell of copper.

If he's going to spend the rest of his life in this box, then he was gonna make sure someone else felt his pain.

**A/N: sorry. I had to cut it there, didn't want to give too much away. The next chapter should be with Shawn in the prison, but knowing how I think it might start out as something different before getting there. Fell free to suggest what you would like to see with Spencer behind bars. I love reading your ideas, and who know I might use it. If I do, I'll credit you. Review!**


	7. Don't Judge a Meal By Its Looks

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych. If I did, I'd totally write myself into an episode as Shawn's long lost cousin … or something.**

**A/N: Wow! Eight reviews last chapter! That's the most I've ever gotten since joining this site a little over a year ago. Still have a small ways to go of topping my (completed) story high for reviews of 56. Hopefully by the time this is completed, I'll be past that. :)**

**And Shawn might be a little OOC for a bit, just because of everything that's been going on. He won't be as witty, because, well he's in prison for murder. Get it?**

**Enjoy C6.**

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Chapter 6

_~ Flashback – 1986 ~_

Henry Spencer sat in his truck and deeply sighed. It had been a long day, and as of 30 minutes, only got worse. He got out of his vehicle and slowly walked the few feet to his house. The light above the kitchen sink was on, but other than that, it was dark. He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer but decided against it and chose water instead then made his way to the couch.

Sitting down, Henry reached over to flip on the side table lamp on before turning back around and being met face to face with his son, Shawn.

"Shawn, what are you doing up?" he questioned. "Its almost midnight."

"Sorry, Dad. I wanted to make sure you came home okay." young Shawn said in an innocent voice. But Henry wasn't fooled.

"Alright, hand it over." young Shawn got up and walked the couple feet to his father before handing over a VHS.

"What did I tell you about watching these kinds of movies?" he asked holding up the box that said "Prison Riot".

"That I could as long as I didn't pee myself in bed?" Shawn tried.

"Uh, not even close. Come here." Shawn sat down next to his Dad and waited for his to continue. "The things they show in these movies aren't real. There aren't evil wardens who suck the life out of the inmates. You want to know what is real?"

"I have a feeling I'm going to find out anyway," Shawn answered.

Henry started, "Today I went to visit an old friend who has been serving a life sentence. He and I use to do every thing together until one day he snapped and killed his old man. He always told me he didn't do it, that he was set up. He said he loved his father even though he disowned him years ago.

"But when I got to the prison, I was informed that he was dead. Killed by another inmate who was already on death row. I went there to tell him that I found an old letter written to him from his father. I can guess what it was about, but the main thing is he died believing that his Dad never loved him. He died in that place knowing that all the people he cared about and loved thought of him to be a murder.

"What I want you to know is that, no matter what happens or what kind of situation you find yourself in, always know that your friends and family love you and believe you. You can survive anything as long as you never stop believing that. Do you understand?"

"Uh, I think so." Shawn replied while yawning.

"Good. Get to bed, I need your help tomorrow."

"g'night, Dad." the younger Spencer said leaving.

"Good night, kiddo."

_~ End Flashback ~_

Shawn Spencer was worried. He was scared out of his mind and he was real close to going insane. He'd been led, not at all gently, to his cell which he had to himself. For that he was kinda glad. One less thing to worry about.

He lay on his bed made up of a mattress that couldn't have been an inch thick and a pillow that smelt really bad. One sink a toilet completed the rest of his space he now called home. But he couldn't call it that. They say home is where the heart is, but there was no heart here whatsoever.

Shawn was thinking. He thought about the looks that the rest of the inmates gave him as he was first led into the Penitentiary and that alone sent shivers down his spine.

A loud horn sounded and the bard doors slid open. A man's voice came over a loud speaker saying for the inmates to slowly walk out of their cells and head to the East doors and to the Mess Hall. It was lunch time.

Shawn complied and follow suit, noticing the heavily armed guards that stood outside their path. They all wore the same navy blue uniforms, topped with an official hat. Their faces were emotionless but their eyes carefully watched the incarcerated men. All of them held semi automatics close to their body, fingers hovering over the trigger waiting to attack.

The next things he knew, he was going through the lunch line. He picked up a worn and cracked and faded (and moldy? No, he was seeing things. He hoped.) tray, placed a paper plate on it a grabbed a plastic fork. The men behind the counter had hairnets on their head and gloves on their hand while they served the men their food.

Shawn got up to the first man and asked with his plate up, "Could I get a bacon cheeseburger? Or maybe some jerk chicken?" the man's response was a spoonful of something that was gray and unidentifiable. "I'll take it your all out," he said and walked down the rest of the line receiving the rest of his meal. A man behind the psychic bumped into him, which caused Shawn to fall and spill the contents of his tray onto the floor and himself.

A few of the other men in line started laughing and jeering at him while he sat there on the floor in the mess.

"Newbie here needs a bath,"

"Guy can't even stay on his feet."

"Your holding up the damn line, jerk."

Shawn stood up slowly, careful to avoid eye contact. He wiped the mess off of his orange jumpsuit best he could until he saw a black hand show up in his vision with napkins. He took them with a thanks before looking up.

"Names Jake." the other man held out a hand which Shawn shook.

"Uh, Shawn," he said and sighed.

"C'mon. I'll share my lunch." Jake walked over to an empty spot where a tray of foot lay only slightly touched. He pushed the meal over to Shawn when he sat down and waited for him to eat.

"Thanks man," Shawn said taking a fork full of he didn't know what. When he put it in his mouth his first instinct was to gag it back up. But he didn't. He literally had to force himself to allow his muscles in his throat to swallow the food down and when he did, he started to feel sick. The look of disgust on his face clearly must've given him away because Jake started to snicker.

"I'm afraid you get used to it after awhile. I swear whatever they cook here burns your taste buds off."

Shawn coughed before replying, "How long is 'awhile'"?

"I've been here eight years and can still taste it. But only a little," Jake said with a hint of a smile. Shawn tried his best to do the same, but instead took the slice of bread and slid the tray of food back to its owner. Aforementioned bread was stale at best, but at that moment, Shawn was glad to have anything on his stomach at all.

Five minutes later, everyone is the Mess Hall was ordered to get up and leave before all being led to their respective cells. Shawn turned around to thank Jake again, but found that the man had been moved to another line on the other side of the room. A tall man whose arms were as big as his head came into view and asked in a deep voice, "What're you gawking at Twinkle Toes?" Feeling small, Shawn quickly muttered a "nothing", before briskly walking the last ten feet to his own cell.

He shakingly sat down on his bed and waited for the door to slide shut. The rest of the day was uneventful to say the least, save his dinner being brought in and slid through an opening at the bottom of the bell. And it was now light out, Shawn had completely lost all sense of time. He did his best to get comfortable but nothing seemed to work in the least bit.

It was dark minus a few lights on in the middle and corners of the giant area and empty on the outside save around seven or eight guards. Shawn lay in his bed, unmoving and staring at the ceiling until his mind drifted off and he fell asleep.

It felt like only seconds passed before a horn sounded that caused Shawn was awake and he felt awful, to put it lightly. His back was stiff and he had a knot in his shoulder and he was sure he was a crock in his neck the size of Florida.

A few minutes later, a guard showed up with a tray of food. Breakfast was severed and it actually looked more promising than his last meal. Shawn could at least identify what had to be eggs, bacon and toast. And a bottle of apple juice to boot.

He dove greedily at his meal, completely ignoring the fork to his right. The eggs and bacon went first, followed closely by the plain toast. He washed it down the the juice and sighed when everything was gone. He wiped his mouth the the thin napkin that was given and pushed the tray to the side, not having a need or want for it anymore.

He looked up and saw that a good sized book was left as well. The cover had long since been gone so he didn't know the title, and the pages were stained and torn, but he was grateful for something to at least help him try and pass the time.

He took the book to his bed a flipped it to the first readable page. After what had to have been only a few minutes, the words on the pages began to blur together. It felt like the world was spinning and soon the book fell to the floor with a muffled thud.

Shawn's breathes became more rapid and the sound of his heart beating reached his ears all too clearly. He tried to stand up, but his legs wouldn't hold him and he crashed to the cold floor instead. The last thing he remembered was how this wasn't like the last time he got poisoned.

**A/N: * hides behind oak desk * Its short, I know. And I'm sorry for that, but I'm fighting writers block with this and my internet has been fuzzy at best. Review?**


	8. The Love of a Friend

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. So suing me would be completely and utterly pointless. I'm just using Shawn for a bit because I don't think he gets beat up enough on the show. * wink * (Yes, I know its a comedy, but c'mon now? I know you guys think the same thing, else you wouldn't be reading this story. ;) )**

**A/N: 40 Reviews through six chapters?! (five chapters really, since the prelude was super short.) Thanks so much!:) School started yesterday. Yay! Not really. Umm, sorry for the angst and whump you are about to read. I don't know what came over me. - ;p – and I don't know how to say it, but y'all should be glad I don't own Psych.**

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Chapter 7

Shawn awoke with a start. His eyes shot open and he attempted to sit up in whatever uncomfortable bed he occupied, but found himself unable to. His wrists and ankles were tightly duck taped to an old wooden chair. Not a bed. Maybe that's why he had this awfully bad crook in his back.

Looking around where he was being held captive, he noticed that he wasn't in his cell where he last remembered to have been. He neither was in the infirmary, but what seemed to be a shed of some kind. Rusty tools hung loosely on the wall to his left and an old tool box stood in the corner to his right. That was all he saw in the dim lighting before the front door of the small building swung open with a squeak.

Shawn expected to be blinded by the sun like people were in the movies after being held in a tiny shed for an unknown amount of time, but noooo. Instead, and totally unlike the movies, he was welcomed with a gush of cold wind and water, followed by three men. Three very large men.

Two of them came closer and flicked on an overhead light which lit up the room a little bit more. The sight Shawn beheld caused his to gasp aloud, which he tried to keep in. Clearly that didn't work. Two security guards stood towering over him and smirks on their faces that would make Cruella Deville jealous.

"Hey, fellas." Shawn said upon seeing the men walk closer. "I think I ended up outta my cell as part of a hazing or something. Mind untying me?"

"I knew I recognized him, Donny." one of them said. And Shawn shivered, if from the cold he wasn't sure. But something didn't feel right.

The other security guard spoke next, "Me too. This is definitely that psychic that busted you."

"You know, I've heard there are dozens of psychics in this area," Shawn started as he tried to talk himself out of whatever situation her had gotten into. "Though none have amazing hair like me, you must be thinki-"

"Enough!" the guy said in the back. His face was hidden in the dark of the back of the room, since the lamp light was dim. "I've been waiting a very long time for this, Shawn."

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" he said, giving up since these guys clearly knew who he was.

"I'm the guy you put in here you twit."

"You are going to have to be more specific, dude. I've put a lot of people in jail."

"The names Donny Mason, its really one hard to forget." the man in the shadows said walking closer to the man bound to the chair, his face coming into view. "But people around here call me 'Big D'."

Shawn gulped. He really had no clue why everyone call him that. Inter sarcasm. Because this guy was massive. Not just in height, but his arms were as big as Shawn's head. If not bigger. Soon a case flashed through his head from seven years ago; one he remembered all too well. Trying his luck, which he felt he didn't have any of at the present moment, Shawn tried to played the dumb card.

"Like I said before, I've sent a ton of people to prison."

"Maybe this'll refresh your foggy memory," Mason said and before Shawn could register what he just heard, a fist slammed into his midsection over and over and over again. The faux psychic gasped as the wind was literally punched of of his body. He attempted to double over, to try to ease some of the pain, but Donny's two helpers were busy pinning his shoulders roughly to the back of the chair.

All at once the strikes stopped. Shawn was breathing hard and couldn't ignore the pain that radiated from his body. Donny Mason spoke up next, asking, "Remember me now?"

"All too well," Shawn couldn't help himself, and this cause Big D to punch him again this right on his jaw. Shawn spat bloody out that was pooling in his mouth and said, "You killed your wife and two kids."

"Ah, it did jog your memory." Mason said grimly. "What else do you remember about me?"

Still breathing hard, Shawn answered "You got.. three life sentences."

"Yes, and thanks to you I'm not able to run my business properly." Shawn looked up at this statement, just in time to see Donny nod his head in the direction of the man still firmly holding his right shoulder. Suddenly a popping sound, followed by shearing, white hot pain engulfed his arm. Shawn screamed at the top of lungs, before having his voice muffled by a rough hand.

"I want you to know something, Spencer." Mason said getting all too close to Shawn's paling face. "you put me in here to rot, and I'm going to make sure that you enjoy every bit of my pain as well. And don't even think about telling any of your friends on the outside, because if you do that pretty girl detective is gonna get it, and then I'm coming after you." Mason smiled as he saw Shawn's eyes grow big at his last statement.

"Yes, I know all about her. And I have guys watching her every move. If you want her to live, then you'll keep quite. Got it?" Shawn didn't have the strength to answer. He didn't have the energy to do any thing and Mason didn't like that he hadn't gotten a reply. Grabbing Shawn's newly injured limb, Mason twisted it, making Shawn let out another muffled cry.

"I said, got it?" the words hung in the air with pure venom, but Shawn nodded ever so slightly, hoping that it was enough. Thankfully it was because his tormentor let go.

"I'll be seeing you around, kid." Donny said. The last thing Shawn remembered was the sight of a fist flying towards his head before blackness overcame him completely.

-xXx-

Shawn groaned as his head rolled to the side. He kept his eyes closed tightly not wanting to leave the comforts of the darkness, but the sound of a chair scraping across the floor nearby awoke him even more. Peaking open one eye, and then the other, he was welcomed to the sight of a woman who was dressed as a nurse.

Looking down on the person on the bed, she smile and said. "Glad to see your awake, Mr. Spencer."

Shawn noticed for the first time that he was now in the infirmary, but the last thing he remembered was- oh crap!

Sitting up to fast, Shawn yelped in pain and his left hand rushed to clutch his right shoulder. His breathing became more rapid and black spots danced in front of his eyes.

"Easy there. I just reset that not long ago." the woman said. Shawn gave her a look that said he didn't completely understand, when he really did. All too well, in fact.

"A couple inmates called the guards who brought you in. Said you fell down a flight of stairs."

_That's the best they could think of?_ Shawn thought before opening his mouth to say, "How long.. was I out?"

"Only a few hours. I'm guessing this happened yesterday before the inmates were sent to their cells since its now morning, so there is quite a bit of swelling."

Shawn was about to ask another question, but a knock rapped on the door and the two guards who are working with Donny walked in. "Time to go back to your cell, scum." the one who dislocated his shoulder said. Shawn won't forget that.

It seemed like he had been awake for only a minute before he was being hauled back to his cell. The guards grabbed his arms on either side and roughly led him to his block. Once he was there, they opened the door and Shawn made his way inside without a word, but that wasn't good enough for the two men because one of them kicked the back of Shawn's knee which sent him to the ground in a heap. Shooting out his arms as a reaction was one of Shawn's worse ideas because as soon as his right arm impacted the floor, pain shot up his arm. Thankfully he didn't hear or feel a pop.

The bared door was slammed shut and Shawn lay on the floor unmoving. He didn't think it could happen, but things had suddenly gone from worse to worser. _That's not even a word, dude._

Not only was he in prison for a murder he didn't commit. Not only was he friendless. And not only was there a killer out for revenge _and_ his head, but this Donny Mason apparently had some job going on the outside. What? He didn't know. Shawn wanted nothing to do with the SBPD, but he had to warn his use-to-be friends.

On the other hand, why should he? What good would that do, other than save the life's of the people who were suppose to save him? Why should he risk his life for the people who turned their backs on him when he needed them the most?

Questions like these ran through his mind for he didn't know how long, but he was brought from his thoughts when a voice spake up. "you got a visitor,".

Shawn looked up from his cot and at the guard who didn't injure his arm, (when he got up there he wasn't sure,) and almost told him to suck it. The look on the other man's face said this wasn't up for discussion and Shawn got up slowly from his bed and walked out of his cell.

When he got to the visitors area, Shawn stopped dead in his tracks as he looked at the person he sat at a table waiting for him. Their back was all Shawn saw, but he knew who it was. A hand shoved into his left shoulder and Shawn stumbled forward, unable to get his legs working. Once he took a deep breath, he began to head over, but a voice and its warm breathe followed his steps.

"_You say a word, and the detective gets what's comin' to her." _it said. Shawn gulped, but nodded his head to show that he understood what the guard said.

Walking over to the table, Shawn sat down loudly alerting the person of his arrival. Gus glanced up from his hands and forced a smile across his face.

"Hey Shawn," the other man began, not really sure what he should be saying.

"Burton," came a reply. Gus couldn't help but feel torn when his first name was said. Sure he deserved that, but that doesn't mean he was expecting it. The eyes that looked at him were hard and cold. Gus had never seen his best friend like this.

_Can I even call him that anymore?_

"Why'd you come?" Shawn asked cutting to the chase. "Why now?"

"I came to say I was sorry." Gus said. "I know I should've been there for you, but I wasn't and there's no way around that."

Shawn tilted his head to the side, as if pondering if he should accept this apology. Then he said without emotion and a straight face, "Remember back in grade school when I broke my arm?" Gus had a look on his face that clearly stated he didn't follow where the psychic was going.

"I got into a fight with that massive kid on the baseball team for hitting on his sister, Danielle Mason. We were in seventh grade, but that guy had a major swing when he had a bat. But he had other things going on on the outside – back at home, and when I learned that, I forgave him. Mostly because I got a hot date for that Friday night."

"Shawn, I don't follow you." Gus replied in a confused voice.

"Tell Jules that I'm sorry." Shawn said standing up. "Tell her that I know she deserves better than me."

Gus sat there alone at the table as he watched his friend leave, literally, in the hands of the guards. Worry began to overcome him, as he wondered what his friend was talking about. Standing up a bit to fast, Gus all but dashed of of the visitors area, through the check out stations up front and grabbed his keys and phone. Dialing Detective O'Hara, Gus got into his car and sped out of the parking lot. Holding onto hope that what his gut was telling him was all to wrong.

**A/N: I've never dislocated my shoulder, but I did blow out my knee just a few months ago. I think the pain I felt is spot on to what Shawn felt. Review?**


	9. One Fine Line In Between

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych. Never have, never will.**

**Warnings: violence, language, angst and whumpage.**

**A/N: Hey, Jules is back! Did you miss her? I think she might be OOC at first, but it fit so well with this chapter, I kept it like that.**

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Chapter 8

Detective Juliet O'Hara sat at her desk and stared blankly at her computer. She'd lost track long ago of how long Shawn had been in prison but every time she thought of him her heart broke. She hardly got any work done and if it was ever completed the Chief would either have her do it over, or Karen would give the case to a different detective who could do the job right.

Her cell phone ringing brought her from her deep thoughts and she answered it upon seeing Gus' name blink across the screen.

"Hello?" she answered and waited for Gus to reply.

"Juliet! Thank God I caught you." Burton said quickly. "you haven't left the station yet, have you?"

"No, I'm still here. Why? What's up?"

"Its Shawn. I think he's in trouble." Juliet fought to control herself from screaming at Gus to tell her what was wrong, but she somehow found it in her to do so. She took a deep breath and said into the phone, "and what about him? There's not a whole lot of mess he can get into where he's at." Even just talking about him, she couldn't get herself to say the word 'prison'. Not when talking about Shawn.

"I went to visit him today. I know I should've done it a long time ago, but I couldn't help my self." Gus rambled on, "He looked awful, beat up even and I think he was trying to give me hints about something. He told a fake story and I tried to pick up on what he was trying to tell me but I couldn't. I didn't understand him and then the guards said his time was up when he was only there for a minute or two but now I-"

"Gus slow down!" Jules said with force, but in a calming matter as well. The last thing she needed was Gus hyperventilating on the other end of the line. "I think your emotions are clouding your mind right now. I know Shawn has-"

"No, Jules," Gus cut in putting his manners aside. "I've known Shawn all my life and I know how he thinks. He will say ridiculous things, sure, but that's just who he is. He'll say he's 121.7 percent sure of something when he knows good and well that 100 percent works just fine. He's in trouble and needs our help."

"I don't think he'd want anything to do with us- with me after all I put him through." the detective said with a sigh.

"Please, Jules. Shawn needs you right now."

Juliet O'Hara thought. She thought about Shawn and how she wished she could tell him how sorry she was. She wanted to tell him that she was wrong for turning her back on him when he needed someone to lean on in his darkest time. But she couldn't do that to him. She couldn't put herself through that pain of failing him again because she decided to follow her heart instead of doing her job.

"I'm sorry, Gus." Jules said in a voice that was just above a whisper. "I can't help you," There was a long pause before Burton Guster spoke again. "Shawn wanted me to tell you the same thing. But I guess he was wrong when he said that you deserved better than him. Because he deserves better than you." and with that, Gus hung up the phone.

Juliet sat there is her chair behind her desk in the SBPD with the phone still up to her ear for what had to be the longest time. When she finally put the object down, it went straight into her purse which she removed from a drawer. Standing up, she headed for the parking lot and her car; where was she going? She hadn't the slightest clue, but when she did, she would know for sure.

Pulling out of the lot, Jules drove away. Away from her problems and troubles? Maybe. But as the image of the station grew smaller in her rear view mirror, the weight of what she was required to do verses what she had to do vanished.

-xXx-

Burton Guster was mad. Upset. Fuming. You could even say that the man was furious. As he all but threw open the front door to the Psych office that hadn't been used since Shawn was arrested, Gus went straight for what he needed. Removing his laptop bag from his shoulder, he went to the back of the building before returning with a rolling white board and a package of dry erase markers.

Gus wrote what he could remember from his conversation with Shawn from earlier that day. Granted, he didn't have his friends memory, so he was sure to forget a couple of things. He could only hope that he didn't forget the important parts.

First, Gus wrote the name '_Danielle Mason_' at the top and middle of the board. He knew for a fact that Shawn never met anyone by that name in seventh grade, so the best Gus could guess that the name wasn't the one Shawn wanted to give. Or couldn't give.

Underneath that name, Burton wrote the words, _Massive_, 'H_itting_', '_going on the outside_', _'guy', _and_ 'fight'. _He replayed the words Shawn spoke to him over in his head, but nothing was jumping out at him. Walking over to his desk, Gus opened his laptop on the dusty surface before opening the web browser.

The name 'Danielle Mason' was standing out to him, but he didn't know why. Typing aforementioned name into the web bar, Gus hit enter and began to look through the pages that came up. After a few minutes passed and getting no where, Gus decided to try a different route.

Going to his file cabinet, he pulled out all of his and Shawn's passed cases with peoples last names beginning with the letter 'M'. Once he had gone through all of them, Gus sighed. They hadn't taken any cases with a persons last named 'Mason'.

Then he had a thought.

Maybe 'They', as in he and Shawn, didn't. But that doesn't mean that Shawn didn't take on one by himself. Surely it wouldn't be the first time that something like this happened, but he had to make sure. If his friend was in trouble, Gus would turn over every rock to save him.

Going over to Shawn's cluttered desk, Gus started to go through all of his drawers and papers that were scattered on the desk. When her got to the upper right hand drawer, Gus pulled but nothing happened. After a few yanks the door slammed opened and Gus went through it as he had the others.

When he got to the bottom, he found an older file that he'd never seen before. It was neatly done, its blue casing protecting the papers inside from whatever junk Shawn happened to throw into the drawer on top of it. Opening it and laying the sheets of paper out in front of him, Gus began too read over the words and when he was done he ran to the white board and erased the name 'Danielle' and replaced it with "Donny'.

Now its making more sense.

Stepping back, Gus placed a hand over his mouth and sighed deeply. This answered so many questions that he had forgotten all those years ago, but now was not time time to reminisce. Gathering the papers and shoving them back where they went, Gus was starting to head for his car when the front door opened.

-xXx-

Shawn seemed to be spending more and more time in his cell lately. He knew it was only a few hours since he'd talked to Gus, and he was really board.

Soon a shadowy figure appeared and Shawn turned to see who it was. "Oh, look. Its my two biggest fans." he says when he see the guards standing on the other side of the cell door. "Sorry, I'm not giving out any autographs for at least 30 more years. Give or take."

"You're coming with us," one of them huffed.

"And what makes you-"

"You don't get a say in this, psychic." the other said while unlocking the door. "Let's go." when Shawn didn't make any effort to move, the guard who unlock the door entered the cell and roughly grabbed him by his injured arm and twisted causing Shawn to yelp in pain. They lead the squirming faux psychic out of his cell and down a flight of stairs past other inmates.

After what felt like years, the group of three came to a halt in front of a door. The guards, still holding firmly to Shawn, opened it and then shoved the prisoner inside. Shawn stumbled a few steps before catching himself and then looking around them room.

It was fairly small, maybe an 12x12 room each way with eight foot ceilings and concrete walls, while a single light hung brightly above him. There were no windows and only that one door and was just now slamming shut. Shawn jumped at this and twirled around when he heard a voice saying, "Welcome to my life, Psychic."

A figure stepped out of the shadows and smiled at Shawn, making him cringe.

"I told you what would happen if told anyone about me." Big D said walking closer to Shawn. "I told you that your girlfriend would get what was coming to her. And now that's she's outta the picture, I can take you out as well."

Shawn gasped. Not from what he was just told, but from the massive hand and its strong grip that was slowly tightening around his neck. Mason was lightening quick and soon Shawn slammed against the wall, his head hitting the brick hard and pinned against one of the walls choking and trying effortlessly to loosen the other mans hold on him.

Feeling himself slipping away, Shawn almost gave in when he heard Donny's voice whisper into his ear, "Nuh, uh, uh. I heard that the detective died quickly, but I can't have you passing out on me right now, psychic." The hold around his neck was suddenly gone and Shawn gulped in air at once. He was then thrown across the room and rolled to a stop. One hand went to his chest and the other help steady him on the ground as he tried to rasp out a question.

"Why are you doing this?" Shawn questioned. It took a lot of effort to say just those five words and his voice cracked.

"Why not do this?" Mason answered. "You ruined me seven years ago. You ruined my company and it fell as soon as I was gone."

"I was.. doing my job. You know, this whole psychic thing, I don't have control over it all the time." Shawn coughed and continued. "You killed your family and now your paying for it."

"They were a.. problem. But none of that matters any way. My business is going strong again, or at least it was until you came along." Donny Mason pulled something from his right sleeve of his shirt and it gleamed in the light. "Now the same applies to you. You are a problem; I am a problem solver."

"Dude, what business? I don't know wha-" Mason charged at Shawn who jumped out of the way in time. Clearly his body didn't like that idea because his vision swam. The images were still blurry, so Shawn tried to buy himself some time.

"Really? A shiv?" Shawn faked a laugh and said. "Isn't that a bit old, man? Couldn't you go with something more original? Like a led pole from your bed, or a screw?"

"What? I like being old school,"

"Is that why you killed your family execution style? Cause I don't see that as old school." by now Shawn could see a little bit clearer, but his head still ached and he felt something warm running down the back of his neck.

Mason slashed at Shawn who wasn't quick enough this time. As the homemade blade sliced through his arm, Shawn couldn't help but scream. Blood flowed freely down his arm, dripping off of his fingertips and staining the ground red. The smell of copper filled the air and Shawn groaned. Now, he knew he was no doctor, but he was 89 percent sure that a major artery was cut.

_You can never be 100 percent sure about anything, can you?_

Why was he hearing Gus' voice in all of this? Okay, after thinking about it for half a second, Shawn was now a 100 percent sure that a major artery was cut. And that he was losing blood fast.

In his weakening state, Mason took advantage of Shawn being down. With a kick to the chest, Donny sent Shawn rolling across the room until he came to rest against the wall.

"This was too easy, Spencer." Mason jeered. "Not that I expected a real challenge, but this was a disappointment to say the least."

Shawn made no move to reply. His head was pounding and he felt lightheaded from the growing blood loss. Donny picked the man up off the floor by his neck and placed the tip of the shiv on the psychics abdomen. "I hope you had as much fun as I did, psychic. Any last words?" before Shawn could even think about replying, Mason pressed the shiv into the psychics stomach. Shawn's eyes grew wide but no sound left his mouth.

Then everything happened at once and in slow motion.

The only door to the room burst open with a loud thud and people filed in shouting. What? Shawn didn't know. Everything that went in his ears came out muffled and jumbled at best, while his eyesight was blackening around the edges and his breathing became more and more shallow by the second. He slowly slid down to the floor, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

He soon felt the hands of a figure he couldn't identify on his face, as they gently slapped him. What were they doing? Couldn't they see that he wanted to sleep?

The voices wouldn't stop talking. And the hands refused to cease slapping. So against his better judgment, Shawn opened his eyes and soon regretted it. If this is what its like while dying, then he wished he'd hurry up and die already because looking at the face the only woman who held his heart was really depressing. Given the circumstances.

"Shawn?" Fake Jules - because there was no way that this was the Real Jules - said in a panicked but soothing voice. There was the slapping again, except not as hard this time, "I need you to stay awake. Please." the last word came out in a choked sob. Do Fake/Dream lovers cry? Or can they? Shawn is still confused, but he realizes something. His head, arm and stomach aren't hurting anymore. He isn't sure if that's a good thing, but right now he doesn't give a damn.

Shawn lifts his eyes and looks at Fake Jules. He thinks he forces a smile to part his lips, but he can't feel any thing. He wants to say so much, but his body refuses to obey him. He sees a tear run down Fake Jules' face and the last thing he remembers is how badly he wishes he could tell the real Jules how much he truely loved her.

**A/N: I'm thinking that there is one or two more chapters left in this story. Let me know what you thought in the Review box.**


	10. Not The Same

She sat in the waiting room in the far corner, away from the only other person who was in or near the same state as herself. Tired eyes looked at the blank walls around them and shoulders sulked as if they bore a heavy weight. The stillness hung thickly in the air, not a sound having been made.

Seven days had passed since someone inside the prison tipped the SBPD about Donny Mason's plans involving Shawn. Seven days since Mason was shot and killed on the spot when the police arrived to see the psychic on the floor. Seven days had gone by since Jules held a bleeding Shawn Spencer in her arms.

The detective rose quickly to her feet when Shawn's doctor walked towards her, informing her that she could see him now, before leaving to tend to other matters.

Juliet O'Hara knew the way Spencer's room by heart. Room 240. She hardly left his bedside, only leaving to eat or sleep restlessly when the Chief ordered her to or when Shawn's dad and Gus stopped by. Lassiter only came once and that was after everything at the prison was taken care of.

Officers at the station said he had buried himself in his work-no one was sure why, but some thought he was beating himself up about the whole thing.

Juliet only shook her head.

The beeping of multiple machines was what the detective heard as she walked into the large enough ICU room-then everything thing went silent when she saw the psychic. Shawn had made no to little improvement in a weeks time. The doctors said that he wasn't making much of an improvement, but said they should be glad that nothing had gotten worse.

She had never seen him this still and that scared her. The only indication of his being alive was the rise and fall of his chest-and even that was only because of the oxygen he was on. The tube was still in place down his throat, taped into position so it wouldn't move.

Juliet wiped the tear that was pooling in her eyes as she took a seat in the chair next to Shawn's bed. After seven days the detective still couldn't bring herself to make any physical contact with the man. It could have been because of the restraints that bound his arms and legs to the bed, despite his many injuries. Or maybe the armed guards that stood outside his door at all times-the ones Jules hardly noticed anymore. She never sat close to him, but she wasn't exactly far away either.

As far as anyone who read or watched the news, knew that Shawn Spencer was still considered a convicted criminal; a murderer. Chief Vick was working over time in an effort to clear the consultants name. Every contact she had while pulling, no, tugging every string in the book was being done. Karen shouldered the blame too, though many tried to convince her other wise.

Juliet O'Hara stayed in her seat for a while longer until a knock sounded on the door. She turned around and greeted Burton Guster with a sad smile. Giving one last glance to the psychic, the detective got up and left the room, not bothering to conceal the tears that flowed from her bloodshot eyes.

-x-x-x-

"I don't know what to say. I'm sorry, Shawn. I let you down." Gus said. If anyone else was in the room at the time, the words would've been muffled and jumbled at best but no one could have missed the sincere expression of guilt on the man's face as he overlooked his best friends unconscious body.

"I didn't want to believe you were guilty, I couldn't bring myself to. But the facts, the evidence; it was all there. I was losing my mind through it all and it seemed every move you made, proved what everyone thought." Gus took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. "some friend I am," he said as he stood up and walked over to the other side of the room. He couldn't do this, not anymore. Now now.

Burton Guster needed air, so he jogged out into the all to clean hallway, using the excuse of needing to find a vending machine when he really couldn't handle the weight of the guilt he shouldered when close to Shawn.

Eight minutes later with a Danish in hand, Gus made his way to the one place on earth he didn't want to be. The sight in front of pharmaceutical salesman caused him to drop his small meal, forgotten, and over to the swarm of doctors and nurses alike as they rushed into the very room his long time friend lay.

'CODE RED IN ROOM 240. CODE RED IN ROOM 240.'

"where's that crash cart?"

Breath in..

"BP is dropping-"

Breath out..

"we're losing him-"

Breath in..

"charging 250- Clear!" Shawn jerked up and down as the bolts of electricity coursed through his body.

Breath out..

"charging 300- clear!" again. Up and down.

Breath in..

"I'm calling it."

And just like that, everything went black.

-x-x-x-

Juliet couldn't believe what she'd just been told.

Shawn couldn't be dead. No. It just wasn't possible. She was just with him and he seemed, more or less, fine. He was surely recovering. Slowly, but recovering.

Her legs buckled unable to hold her up any longer. The news the doctor had told her not even a minute ago sinking in even though she didn't want it to. She didn't-couldn't believe that Shawn was gone.

Tears poured from her eyes faster when she saw Gus, with the aid of a nurse, walking over to where she sat.

The two embraced, neither able to stand on their own, and not wanting to be alone.

"Doctor Evans, we need you! Now!" a nurse called out. The doctor that informed Jules quickly left the grieving friends at the same time Detective Lassiter and Chief Vick ran into the waiting room, a nurse having already called them with the news.

The four stood in confusion for what felt like an eternity until Doctor Evans returned.

"Doctor, what's-"

"We don't know how, but Shawn's heart started beating ninety seconds after we called it." the doctor said quickly. "now I have to get back in there, but if your friend keeps fighting like this, he might just make it." and just like that he was gone.

Lassiter swore under his breath and the chief could only shake her head at the news given to them. Gus was now seated with his head in his hands muttering to himself while Jules excused herself for some fresh air.

The weather in Santa Barbra was dreary, having been raining for a few days but now as she stepped outside the sun shone though the fading clouds and she couldn't help but smile. Something she hadn't been able to do since this whole nightmare began.

Shawn was going to be alright. She could feel it. And whatever trials and conditions they had to face, they were going to make it through.

Together.

-x-x-x-

You know how people say that when your about to die, you'll see a white light? They lied. Shawn was sure of it.

Your life doesn't flash before your eyes like a cinematic movie in Hollywood, either. And there certainly wasn't any pineapple.

To say the least, Shawn Spencer was disappointed.

He thought he had heard Gus speaking to him at one time or another. Maybe even the Chief or Lassie, too come to think of it. But he was 100 percent sure that he heard Juliet's soft, sweet voice. Now, he'll admit he wasn't sure if it was Fake Jules or Real Jules, if you asked him, all he knew was that he missed her badly.

He wanted to make her laugh at his stupid jokes or tell he about that prank he pulled on Gus. But he couldn't.

He couldn't move; could hardly breath which confirmed one thing.

Getting ready to die sucked.

That was what was on his mind as the pain he was in slowly faded away. He could hear muffled voices followed by a shock filling his body.

'Why can't they let me go peacefully?' he thought.

Another shock.

'I'm sorry, Jules.' Shawn wanted the pain to end and wished the for it hard. Soon everything was quite and Shawn Spencer smiled to himself as he let go.

-x-x-x-

Gus paced back and forth in the silent waiting room, eyes never leaving the clock mounted high in the wall. If he focused on it hard enough, he could hear the gears grinding as each second passed.

It had been just over an hour since Doctor Evans told them that Shawn could be out of the woods, but to be on the safe side of things said to see what the next 24 to 36 hours beheld.

"Guster if you keep pacing in that straight line the hospital will make you pay for new tile." Detective Lassiter said breaking the thick silence.

"Its either this or punch a hole through each wall I pass." Gus said not looking the other man's way.

"Family of Shawn Spencer?" Doctor Evans called out. The four friends of the psychic all walked over to see what news the doctor had for them.

"You can see him now, but one at a time." he said with a genuine smile on his face. "We moved him to the ICU for now, and if he improves to my liking we will move him to a more comfortable room tomorrow evening."

There were hugs and soft cheers of joy when Chief Vick's phone rang. She excused herself as Doctor Evans showed Juliet to Shawn's room, Lassiter and Gus agreeing that she should go first.

The walk down the long hallway was quite. At least to Jules it was since she was lost in her own thoughts. Once at Shawn's ICU room, complete with the armed guards at the door, Juliet was led inside before being left alone.

When the door clicked shut, Detective O'Hara made her way to the bedside when Shawn opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Hey," he said weakly. The breathing tube had been replaced with a nasile tube to help be easier on his lungs.

"Shawn, I'm-"

"Don't." said Shawn. He moved his hand until he felt Jules' soft skin on his. "Don't say your sorry."

"But I am." she said through the tears that had broken free."

"I understand. I do." That's what he whispered over and over until a knock rapped on the door. Shawn had fallen asleep so Juliet answered with a low reply to come in.

"How is he?" Gus asked.

Juliet stood to her feet and wiped her face and smiled. "He's hanging on. Its taking a lot out of him though."

"Yeah," Gus said. "The Chief wanted to talk with you, so I'll stay with him until you get back."

The detective nodded and left the room to find the Chief and her partner.

"Good news, Detectives." Karen began. "I just spoke to a lawyer friend of mine who took over Shawn's case. All charges have been dropped."

Juliet smiled and pulled the chief into a hug before composing herself. "Sorry, Chief."

"Its quite alright, O'Hara." she smiled while fixing her clothes. "When Mr. Spencer wakes up next, I want you to be the one to tell him the good news."

Gus soon joined the group and was informed thereafter of the news. Juliet excused herself to Shawn's room when Doctor Evans stopped her.

"Detective, might I have a word with you real quick?" she was right in front of Shawn's room but nodded and waited for the man to continue. "I went over some of Mr. Spencer's charts and something caught my attention."

"But you said he was making enough improvement to be taken out of the ICU by tomorrow?" Jules said.

"Yes, that is our goal, really." Doctor Evans removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. "What I mean is that while Shawn is taking great to recovering physically, I'm worried about his mental state."

"What are you saying, Doctor?" Juliet couldn't stop herself from asking, for she already feared she knew the answer.

"To put is simply, the Shawn Spencer you and your friends knew before, likely won't be the same Shawn Spencer you have back now."


End file.
